If Tibet remained Independent

The grasses must have grown greener
Trees must haven’t turned into timbers
The mountains must have not been mined
Rivers must be running in its natural flow
Rivulet must have been cooler and cleaner
The monks and monasteries must have been in peace
Their prayers must have been a little louder
Their voice must have not been in hoarseness
The Potala palace must have held its height little higher
Bakor street must have its own essence
The song of the sixth Dalai Lama must be singing on the street
The son of snow land must not have been singing his song in silent
He must not have been running and roaming for freedom
He must be having his loved ones by his side

By: Sonsnow

“I am too tired of coming here time again and again to see those marvelous mountains and trying to figure out the beautiful things buried behind the boundaries of those high standing Himalayas. Now my eyes are aching and couldn’t see the scenes of the far sight. My legs are limping and couldn’t walk far too long. I am worried to walk and cross them to go back to the home, which is close to my heart.”

By Sonsnow

Home?
Ask me not 
It hurts me so often 
It’s not either a place or space 
Where I sleep
Not at all a street or school
Where I walk 
It’s there
Where my heart hovers and hovers 
Until its get hurt
It’s there 
Where I sleep so sound 
As if  I have no tomorrow 
It’s there 
Where I walk and talk 
As if I own every piece of land 
It’s there 
Only there in my dream
And I dream so often

By Sonsnow

“The economy dominates the world so much that everybody chooses to buy the cheap Chinese Chow Mein (Chinese cuisine) and when it comes to the human rights issues, they are shocked and chocked with Chinese chopsticks.”

By: Sonsnow

It was a strange year
But that year
There were a lot of strange Days
After every booms and blow
Baby cries here
And mother Crawls there
With aches all over their body

It was a strange year
But that year
There were a lot of strange Days
After every bombing and blasting
Temples demolished there
And houses destroyed here
With ashes all over the sky

It was a strange year
But that year
There were a lot of strange Days
After every bombs and bullet
Bodies bleeding there
And blood running here
With Smells all around the ground

It was a strange year
But that year
There were a lot of strange Days
After every greeting and Grinning
Dragon dances there
And Lion laughs here
With politics, all over the world

By: Sonsnow

I hear voices from a far distance
Through the holes of high standing Himalayas
Through the cracks of charming Chinese walls
Through the murky river rushing down to us,

I hear voices from a far distance
From the small cells of squirrel size
From the dark rooms of rat holes
From the long lines of concentration camps,

I hear voices from a far distance
A woman wailing, for her dear husband
A child calling for her father figure
A monk murmuring for his murdered Lama

I hear voices from a far distance
When men in uniform are at distant
When the communist curtains are wide open
When guards at the gate are gone

I hear voices from a far distance
For the land they lost long ago
For the siblings they separated so long
For the freedom they lost long ago

By Sonsnow

I am a Prisoner
A Prisoner of someone
So strong and powerful,
They hold back my hand
When I raise my fist for freedom,
They twist my tongue
When I tweet for Truth and Justice,

I am a Prisoner
A Prisoner of someone
So Strong and powerful
They took me far off
When I choose to write for Rights,
They tied me and trialed
When I hold to Truth too tight,

I am a prisoner
A Prisoner of someone
So strong and powerful,
They looted my home
When I own the Truth and Justice,
They put me in Prison
When the world sold them Humanity.
By Sonsnow

” You learn nothing from others at the moment you think of others as an inferior being, instead, accept the fact that none of us is as superior as others in one thing or the other”.

Sonsnow

“The saddest thing about being a refugee is that there is nothing around you that you own and even the heart, and mind choose to run away every now and then towards the homeland”

by Sonsnow